


Come Close

by tinystreetlamp



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Demigods, F/F, Falling In Love, Idiots in Friendship, Poetry, Sappho - Freeform, Sword Fighting, Violence, a lot of Sappho because I'm a lesbian, minor Anubis/Ichirou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-21 17:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20697185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinystreetlamp/pseuds/tinystreetlamp
Summary: Sometime around 200 BC in Ancient Greece, in a world where the greek gods are real, Laila is a warrior from Sparta. During her first visit to Athens she meets not only Jeremy of Troy but also falls head over heels in love with Sara, a daughter of Apollo and local poet. But Sara is cursed, and soon the three cross the Mediterranean on a quest to break the curse and save Sara.





	Come Close

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the AFTG Big Bang 2019 and my peace of mind, because this setting is something I love way too much. I'd have thought writing it would have been easier
> 
> [links to the art will go here]
> 
> Thanks to my sister, who didn't leave when I screamed at the screen and without whom this would forever stay a WIP.
> 
> Thanks to Rei, beta and first reader. Thank you so much for the corrections and especially the fact that you liked it. You going over this and sharing your thoughts means so much.
> 
> Thanks to Nico and Bela, the mods of this event. You're the best, and I'm sorry for missing the deadline.
> 
> The title is from the Penguin Classic "Come Close - Sappho" a poetry collection. From that tiny book are all the poems by Sappho I included. (they're clearly labeled. obviously I don't own that) (I also don't own aftg, Nora Sakavic does, while Anubis and the demigod stuff are politely borrowed from Rick Riordan)

_ Come close, you precious _ _   
_ _ Graces and Muses _ _   
_ __ With beautiful tresses.

_ Here is the reason: it is wrong _ _   
_ _ To play a funeral song _ _   
_ _ In the Musician’s House -  _ _   
_ _ It simply would not be decorous. _ __   
-Sappho

Laila rode behind her commander and aunt through the city gates of Athênai. The diplomatic mission was of minor importance, but Laila was only the happier. City of arts, city of the people. Well, of some of the people, Laila guessed as she beheld slaves in the streets, running errands and going about the day.

Matters of allegiances and trade were not hers to discuss, so she’d be free to do as she liked. To go to the temples and to listen to the philosophers debating the very essence of existence.

Beside her, her brothers and sisters in arms looked in awe at the Acropolis overlooking the city. Some children on the street tugged at their warden’s hands and stared wide-eyed at the riders. They were a good way into the city when a rider galloped towards them, greeting them with respect. Sparta was an isolated region, and peaceful visits to Athênai were few after all.

They were led to their chambers in the living quarters of one of the city’s foreign emissaries, and as soon as Laila knew her horse was taken care of, she left most of her weapons on her assigned bed and headed to the streets.

Athênai was beautiful. A glowing city, blessed by Athena herself, the white marble glowing in the sunlight and the sounds and smells of the marketplaces. The streets were full of sound and movement, colourful clothes and laughter. The marketplace she passed was occupied by several people discussing a new law, giving speeches on the pros and cons.

But Laila walked on, until she stood in front of the Acropolis itself. White pillars rose into the blue sky, and she stopped to marvel at the reliefs in the stone, the detail given to the statues. Their faces were all young and beautiful, expressionless in their innocence. Laila bowed before the statues of gods and goddesses, and set the twig of an olive tree from Sparta before the feet of Athena.

Goddess of War, yes, and goddess of Wisdom. And of many more things that Laila would never discover in her lifetime.

_ We are blessed by you, Athena, _ Laila whispered in her mind. Nevermind that Zeus was Sparta’s main god. Laila would pay her respects later, together with the others.

“I do not often see a Spartan fighter, even in the streets of Athênai,” a voice said from behind her.

Laila slowly turned. This was a holy place, and she didn’t expect a threat - before her stood a man with sun-bleached but still so-very-dark hair and light brown skin, eyes soft and curious like his smile. “And where do you travel to make such quick judgement?”

“I’m Jeremy of Troy,” he said and sketched a bow. “I travel to the cities that promise me libraries and art.”

“I imagine the art of war is not necessarily among them,” Laila said and returned the bow. “I am Laila, and only recently finished training.”

“Would you like to see the art of poetry, Laila?” Jeremy took a piece of cloth out of his coat and held it out.

_ The House of Words _ _   
_ _ a recital of poetry and songs _ _   
_ __ a viewing of art

And under it, an address. Laila felt her lips curve into a smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Jeremy beamed. “Come, then.”

* * *

The house was built from white marble, and olive trees grew in the gardens surrounded by rose bushes. Laila marveled at the flowers and stopped in front of a marble statue. She didn't recognize the woman, and there was no plaque or lettering to name her, but something in the way her clothes fell was familiar.

“This is Sappho,” Jeremy said beside her. “Plato called her the tenth muse. The other nine muses are around here somewhere, too.”

“She's beautiful.”

When they stepped through a stone archway and into a backyard framed by rose bushes, they were surrounded by people in flowing himatia and colourful peploses, and Laila couldn’t help but hear the quiet sounds of metal on metal whenever she took a step. Her Spartan sword and knives were out of place, she realised. Her Spartan peplos bared her thighs and was of more simple fabric than that of the other guests, who all wore silk and the softest of wool.

Laila was a granddaughter of Athena. Her mother had died when she was very small, but her mother’s twin sister had raised and trained her. Nevertheless, Athena wasn’t known for art. She was known for peace, yes, and olives, but more for the hunt and for war.

“Laila?” Jeremy whispered. “What is it?”

She smiled at him, grateful for his presence, but before she could reply a tall young man greeted them.

“Hello, welcome to the House of Words,” he said with an accent Laila didn’t recognize. “You just look a bit lost. Would you like a tour?”

“Well, we aren’t lost,” Laila replied and met grey eyes.

“We’re here for the first time,” Jeremy added with a charming smile.

“I’m Jean,” the man replied. “I’ve been coming here for months now. I can explain things to you.”

Before Laila could answer, someone called out that the performances would start in a few moments, and Jean led the way to the benches that formed a half moon around a small space between the rose bushes. Pastel blue and red flowers bloomed from the thorns.

In awe, Laila listened to a teenager perform a song. Then a woman stepped forward, clad in pastel blue and red silk that were a charming contrast to her dark skin. Laila held her breath.

_ “Waves pool around me, guiding me to shore,” _ she said with a dreamy voice,  _ “they pull me up, and for the first time - I feel something different than water. Something emptier, and bigger, and free - air, sky, wind, sun, but I don’t know the words for it yet. Over the horizon I can see the sun rising and the world is filled with sounds I never knew. The water is no longer silent and calm. It’s loud and full of surprises, and bubbles and sprinkles and waves refuse to let me go. And I am calmed by it, knowing that things may be different now but my home - the sea - has not left me. Will never leave me. Leaves rustle in the wind, and as the sun moves across the sky I think I could be here forever. Orange and purple paints the sky and among the deepest red of a starfish the sun sets. Quietly, I miss it, the deep darkness under water. Inside of the water it is never cold - but here, in the wind, I begin to understand why the water stays quiet. A different light shines onto the surface, and all I knew is once again nothing but a shadow compared to the silvery glittering of the sky. Except -” _

Everyone seemed to hold their breath.

_ “Except I can feel things once again changing.  _ Time  _ is not a concept for me, like it is to you. But the sun is blinding white and the water leaves me, or I leave the water, I am not sure, for all I know is the loneliness that comes when you have lost your way. Sometimes the sky cries for me, and I relish every drop falling from the sky - an empty space, bigger, free, air, sky, wind, sun. I know the words for them now.” _

Silence embraced the audience for a few moments after the poet finished. Then everyone applauded politely, and the poet moved to sit in her chair, shoulders relaxed and with a smile on her lips.

“I’m in love,” Laila whispered, blinking.

“What?” Jeremy asked loudly over the noise and discreetly wiping away a tear.

“That was Sara Alvarez,” Jean said with a helpful expression on his face. “She’s a daughter of Apollo. She likes to keep secrets, but her poetry often moves us to tears.”

“So she writes?”

“Sometimes she sings, and blessed are those minutes.”

They quieted when the next poet told a story of love and loss, and then listened to Jean explain who they were and what they were doing in their life, generally. Laila didn’t really pay attention. The performance ended with a priest honouring the gods and setting a plate of fruits on fire.

“Come on,” Jeremy tugged Laila to her feet and dragged her through the chattering crowd.

“Is there food?” Laila asked, belatedly realising that they’d left Jean behind. “I want food.”

“No, let’s talk to her first.”

“Who?”

“Hello,” Jeremy said to someone Laila couldn’t see, “your poem was very moving.”

_ Aphrodite, be with me, _ Laila prayed when she noticed she stood in front to the poet who’d so beautifully talked about being a  _ stone, _ of all things to be.

“Hey,” the poet greeted, smiling.

“I loved your words,” Laila said after a moment too long with a dry tongue and sweaty hands. How could a smile be prettier than anything she’d ever seen before?

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

Sara took in Laila’s and Jeremy’s appearance and smiled. “Not many demigods find their way to us. Is this your first time in Athênai?”

“Yes,” Jeremy said when Laila didn’t seem able to reply. “I’m Jeremy of Troy, son of Hermes, and I met her at the temple earlier today. She’s from the Spartan delegation that arrived earlier today.”

“I’m Laila, descendant of Athena,” Laila said when she found her voice.

“Sara Alvarez, daughter of Apollo,” Sara said with a small bow. “I’d be delighted to show you around the House of Words. You’d be most welcome.”

“Is there food somewhere?” Laila blurted out, and felt her face heat up in embarrassment. Oops.

Sara grinned. "I like the way you think."

Sara led them behind the rose shrubbery, and to Laila's delight they found a barely touched buffet. Piles of bread, cheese and olives welcomed them.

“So,” Jeremy began while loading a plate with everything that would fit on it, “is everyone here a demigod?”

“Only a few,” Sara replied with a full mouth. “We don’t advertise, as we don’t really want to make it easy for the monsters to come find us. But the city is safe… mostly, at least.” She shrugged. “Do you wanna see the art room?”

* * *

_ But I love extravagance, _ _   
_ _ And wanting it has handed down _ _   
_ _ The glitter and glamour of the sun _ _   
_ __ As my inheritance.

_ I truly do believe no maiden that will live _ _   
_ _ To look upon the brilliance of the sun _ _   
_ _ Ever will be contemplative _ _   
_ _ Like this one. _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

Late in the evening, Laila got back to the quarters assigned to the Spartan delegation. She was exhausted from the travel, and the excitement of her day made her crave a surface to lie down on and a blanket to drape over her head. Athênai was loud, and full of life, but it was also too loud.

“You’re late.”

Laila flinched and looked up.

Her aunt narrowed her eyes.

“Sorry?” Laila offered, “I met some people. Demigods.”

“You need to be careful.” Her aunt’s words were harsh and and commanding, but Laila had gotten used to them, and had learned to hear the concern beneath.

“I always am,” she replied.

That night she dreamed of training. A memory. She was running along the beach, the sand giving way under her bare feet, her heavy armour dragging her down.

_ “Faster,” her aunt almost taunted from beside her, running seemingly effortlessly. _

_ Laila’s lungs burned. _

She awoke, bringing salty ocean air with her.

* * *

In hindsight, having breakfast with Sara and Jeremy was a mistake. Because it led to lunch outside the city, in the harbour just a few kilometers from the Acropolis. That was where the monsters found them.

“It’s practically my duty to show you guys around,” Sara was chuckling. “Two demigods in a foreign city, and you first came to the House of Words, instead of our eternal rivals, the scholars, or, gods, the House of Heroes.”

“Demigod scholars?” Jeremy asked.

“House of Heroes?” Laila said at the same time. She, again, was wearing her Dorian peplos and fighting leathers, though most of her weapons were concealed.

“Well,” Sara said, looking over Laila’s attire, “should I be worried you’ll find other friends?”

“That would depend entirely on the food.” But Laila smiled brightly as she spoke.

The’d just turned a corner, finally seeing the dozens of ships clearly, when they noticed it had gone eerily quiet, and the supposedly busy harbour was devoid of people. The blue sky was suddenly overcast and mist gathered over the still ocean waters.

“Shit,” Laila said and drew her sword.

“Monsters,” Jeremy agreed.

“Sara?” Laila asked, concerned when Sara only held a small harp in her hands.

“Would it be a surprise to you if I said I’m really bad at fighting, but usually monsters don’t notice me?”

Laila shrugged. “I doubt monsters would pass by a child of Apollo just like that.”

“All our parents - or grandparents, Laila - are of the twelve most powerful gods,” Jeremy sighed. “We should be surprised nothing attacked us in the city.”

“You do smell… delicious,” a purring voice declared. A vaguely humanoid shape appeared in front of them, the mist suddenly thicker than before. The Manticore smiled, teeth flashing. When it dropped on its hands, its hair transformed to a lion’s mane and the cat like beast with a deadly, scorpion-like tail lost all semblance of its human shape.

Laila cut its tail off first.

Unfortunately, that was when a second manticore screamed above them, and Laila was certain she was looking at death. Big, sharp claws stretched to rip her apart, and those… teeth. Laila had half a thought to cover Sara’s body with hers.

An arrow pierced its side and monster dust rained down. Jeremy threw a dagger at the first manticore, and to Laila’s relief it followed its friend back to the underworld.

Thick mist had gathered around them. More arrows pierced the air and one more manticore let out a dying scream. Then the fog lifted.

“I’m not sure if I should be surprised,” Laila said dryly when she recognized who they were dealing with. A young girl, perhaps eleven years old, stepped forward. Reluctantly, Laila dropped to her knees before the immortal goddess. Sara and Jeremy followed her lead.

“Rise, young ones,” the goddess said with a smile on her face but not in her eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way, for saving your lives.”

“Thank you, Lady Artemis,” Sara said, gripping Laila’s wrist as she stood. “What brings you to Athênai?”

“Is seeing my brother’s daughter not enough of a reason?” Artemis chuckled, though to Laila her words sounded more like a threat than small talk. Artemis and Athena had exactly three things in common: being goddesses of the hunt, having taken a chastity vow, and being daughters of Zeus. Tough subjects, all of that. So Artemis made a point of staying away from Athênai for obvious reasons.

“Uh,” Sara said intelligently.

Artemis rolled her eyes, and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “It’s Apollo who sent me in a fit of fatherly responsibility, Sara Alvarez. He says there won’t be time for you to go to Delphi for a prophecy, but to find answers in Alexandria.”

Laila watched the colour leave Sara’s face with mild concern. Sara’s fingers were clasped so tightly around her wrist that it actually hurt, but Laila made no move to free herself.

“You’re three.” Artemis acknowledged Laila and Jeremy with a lift of her left eyebrow. “That’s a good number for an adventure. After all, the seas are restless at this time of year, and who knows how that curse of yours will manifest.”

Artemis nodded at herself, seemingly quite pleased with having relayed her message, and without another word of goodbye, signaled her huntresses to depart. They vanished as quickly as they came, presumably to hunt some more manticores - or lure monsters closer to the city, if only to annoy Athena.

Slowly, the street once again filled with chattering mortals, opening up restaurants and setting up tables with fish for sale. Even the ships in the harbour came to life, and birds screeched above.

_ Well, shit, _ Laila thought passionately.

“Cursed?” Jeremy asked, his face somewhere between panic and worry.

“I’ll tell you about it over lunch?” Sara lifted her shoulder and smiled awkwardly. When she noticed she still had Laila’s wrist in a death grip, she let go with a mumbled apology and a blush.

The food Sara bought for them at a corner stall was delicious, so Laila supposed she’d have to accompany Sara on her quest to Alexandria. It was definitely the food. Sara’s pretty face had nothing to do with it, and neither had her gorgeous hair, nor the fact that she’d written a poem about being a stone.

They sat on a sandy part of the beach when they were done. Jeremy fiddled with the seams of his sleeves and Sara avoided any and all eye contact.

“So,” Laila finally began quietly, “you’re cursed, your dad sends his sister to tell you to go on a quest, and we need to hurry, because there’s no time left.”

“You don’t need to come with me -”

“Yes, we do,” Jeremy interrupted. “Let’s not pretend any of this is chance.”

Sara sighed.

“Cursed?” Jeremy prompted, nudging her shoulder encouragingly.

“IsleptwithanArae,” Sara mumbled, blushing furiously.

_ Fury-ously, _ Laila’s brain supplied when Sara’s words registered. She didn’t attempt to close her mouth, fully aware she was staring quite rudely at the poet. Not that Sara would notice; she was resolutely studying the ground.

“Can you repeat that?” Jeremy’s face started to resemble question marks.

Belatedly, Laila gasped. “You slept with an Arae. You slept with a spirit from the underworld that is the personification of a curse, specifically the curse by a murdered person on the murderer. A cousin to the Erinyes. _ You had sex with a Fury?” _

“Wait, what?” Jeremy asked, leaning back and mirroring Laila’s wide eyed stare.

“She was cute,” Sara mumbled and buried her face in her hands. “She was cute, and there was this party at the House of Heroes, and I was drunk because I didn’t like the people at the party, and she threatened an asshole son of Poseidon, so we were like instant friends, and one thing just lead to another…”

Now it was Laila’s turn to blush furiously, though she didn’t understand why. Sure, it was nice that Sara seemed interested in women, as Laila was a woman, and - wait. No. “So how did  _ you _ end up cursed?”

“I don’t know!” Sara peeked through her fingers at her two new friends. “I can only guess it had something to do with us both having a  _ great  _ time and in the morning she was gone, left without a trace.”

“Oh… what a shitty move,” Jeremy said.

“Why Alexandria?” Laila changed the topic, not wanting to acknowledge the soft but achy feeling in her chest that almost reminded her of jealousy. But it wasn’t. Obviously. “It does have an extensive library. Maybe we’ll find answers there?”

A thoughtful expression took over the embarrassed one, and Sara squinted her eyes at the horizon. “That’ll have to be it, then. The library of Alexandria.”

“Well, then,” Jeremy got to his feet. “When do we leave?”

* * *

_ Artemis made the pledge no god can break: _ _   
_ _ ‘Upon my head and all that I hold dear, _ _   
_ _ I shall remain a maid, a mountaineer _ _   
_ __ Hunting on summits - grant this for my sake.’

_ The Father of the Blessèd gave the nod - yes; _ _   
_ _ And all the gods pronounced her Frontier Goddess _ _   
_ _ And Slayer of Stags, and Eros never crosses _ _   
_ _ Her path . . . _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

Back in the city, Laila wasted no time packing her bag. She’d have to leave her horse behind, and she didn’t have much beside her swords and a bedroll. Sara and Jeremy had agreed they’d meet by the city gate an hour before sunset, which technically left them all enough time to get their affairs in order and get ready for a long time on a ship.

Except Laila doubted there’d ever be enough time to get her aunt to let her go.

“Laila.”

Her aunt was one of Sparta’s best, and even with Laila, the niece she’d raised as if she were her daughter, her commanding tone never disappeared. Sighing, Laila turned to face her.

“I will not lose you,” her aunt said with steel in her voice.

“One day you just might, dear aunt.” Laila couldn’t mask the sarcasm in her tone, but the stony look on her aunt’s face didn’t change. She tried another approach. “I know it’s - it’s difficult for you, but I’m not my mother. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not… well, who am I kidding?” Her aunt’s eyes sparked in a rare smile. “I lost my twin sister, and you’re all I have left of her. But it’s your other mother I’m more concerned about.”

“Oh.” So that was what this was about.

Her aunt sighed. “Remember your training. Be respectful to the gods, and all that. Don’t get married without me there, and try not to pick a fight with every idiot you meet.”

“Wait, that’s it? You’ll let me go?”

“It is as you said. One day I might lose you, no matter what I do to prevent it. But I pray that you’ll come back alive, so that you might not lose me.”

Laila nodded. They were not ones for tearful farewells, so she nodded at the members of the Spartan delegation in passing and made her way to meet Sara and Jeremy. She commited her aunt’s smile to memory and tried not to think about mothers.

* * *

Sara was visibly uncomfortable when Laila reached her. She’d changed into a simpler himation, made of sturdy linen and dyed dark blue. A bag lay at her feet. Sara had braided her hair, and was twisting the ends in her hands, fidgeting.

“Is everything okay?” Laila followed Sara’s eyes to a young man wearing a blue and yellow chiton, a sword of celestial bronze hanging openly on his belt. “What’s up with that dude? He’s basically screaming ‘I’m a demigod, please eat me.’”

Sara chuckled and turned to face Laila. “He’s an asshole. Some son of Poseidon, and utterly shameless.”

“What’s up?” Jeremy threw an arm around them both. “Are we talking about boys? Because I have a feeling I’m the only one here interested in those…”

“Oh, please,” Sara smiled and her fingers let go of her braids, shoulders relaxed. “You wouldn’t touch this one with a ten-foot pole.”

“He’s coming over,” Laila said.

“What do we have here?” The stranger sneered when he reached them. “A poet, a Spartan, and…” He made a show of raising his brows at Jeremy.

“A Trojan,” Jeremy replied. “Please don’t talk to us.”

Sara giggled, and Laila was momentarily distracted by the sound.

“You dare… I am Kyle, son of Poseidon. I’ve killed demigods before, and I won’t hesitate to do it again.” He put his right hand on the hilt of his sword.

Laila narrowed her eyes. “And I am Laila, granddaughter of Athena. Was there something you wanted?”

Kyle took a step back and focused on Laila. “Not from the likes of  _ you… _ Sara.” He turned to her, ignoring the face she pulled. “I would like for you to join me in Cyprus. My ship leaves at dawn.”

“No, thank you,” Sara replied. “Let’s go,” she said to Laila and Jeremy, turning her back to the son of Poseidon. Laila picked up Sara’s bag, and Jeremy made a rude gesture over his back as they walked out the city gates. Sara sighed.

Laila took a moment to appreciate the sun hanging low over the horizon, and the bustle of people going in and out of the city. It truly was beautiful, and so… new, for Laila, especially when she tried and failed to compare it all to Sparta. Sparta was cut off from the rest of the world, isolated and proud, while Athênai was glowing with life and noise and colours and people from all over the known world. It was beautiful and just a tiny bit terrifying.

And Alexandria… who knew, really, what waited for them in Egypt?

Laila linked her arm with Sara’s. “What was that about? And is he the asshole son of Poseidon from the House of Heroes you mentioned earlier?”

“That’s the one. He also… ugh, he also propositioned me.” Sara made a face. “When I said no, obviously, he got all peacock-y, and then the Arae showed up and we bonded over insulting him…”

“Ugh,” Jeremy agreed.

“For the record,” Laila said in a sudden burst of confidence, “I also think he’s an asshole, and I’m always ready to insult him with you.”

“Thanks, Laila,” Sara laughed, furiously blushing.

Laila was still smiling when they boarded the Egyptian papyrus trade ship, exchanging pleasantries with the crew and settling into a small space with three hammocks.

Sara immediately curled up after a small snack, and Laila and Jeremy decided to let her have her rest. It had been, after all, an eventful day, and there was a curse that had not yet manifested. Laila knew all of them could guess the end result if they would not find a way to end it first, but did not want to bring it up. Because they’d find a way to end the curse.

She followed Jeremy up and offered to help set sail, but the crew politely declined. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Jeremy until the lights of the coast began to fade to black, and when Jeremy wished her a good night she turned her eyes to the stars until the ship reached deeper water and the crew got quiet, most of them preparing for sleep. The way the ship moved below her feet left a nervous flicker in her stomach, but Laila mirrored the sailors’ way of walking with ease.

She was the best fighter her age, and was rightfully proud of her skills. She pretended not to stumble when she fell into her hammock and closed her eyes.

_ Laila was running again, this time through a cold mountain river. Upstream. If she were standing, the water would only reach her knees - as it was, it sloshed up to her hips and stomach. Her aunt ran on the dry path next to the river. They didn’t talk, Laila because she was busy trying to breathe through the exhaustion, and her aunt because she felt guilty and was keeping secrets. _

Before dawn, Laila awoke when she heard Sara stub her toe on the floor and curse quietly. She mumbled Sara’s name.

“Hey, Laila,” Sara whispered. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well see the sunrise. Wanna come?”

Quietly, they tiptoed out of their cabin, Laila with her blanket draped over her shoulders. The deck wasn’t abandoned, there was someone at the steering wheel and someone was keeping her company.

The sky was clear and the stars were fading. The sea was almost calm, but the wind still filled the sail and carried them over the waves. Sara faced east, towards the greying sky. Sara was… beautiful, and Laila wanted to kiss her and make her smile, erase the crease between her brows. But she didn’t.

“The sun always rises just after the coldest hours of the night,” Sara said quietly.

Laila stepped close to her and wordlessly offered to share her blanket. Sara’s smile was a million times brighter than the sun peeking over the horizon, but Laila could only watch as Sara turned to the sea.

“I always thought that if I was going on a quest, it would be because I chose to do so, and with my father’s blessings. But all I have now is is a curse that threatens my life and puts you and Jeremy in danger. And no word from Apollo.”

“The gods,” Laila started, but didn’t know how to continue. “The gods are immortal. I don’t think they have the same perception of death and time as we do.”

Sara sighed and leaned against Laila, putting an arm around her waist under the blanket. “Death and time…”

They stood together until their blanket grew too warm and the small ship buzzed with life.

* * *

_ You will have memories _ _   
_ _ Because of what we did back then _ _   
_ __ When we were new at this,

_ Yes, we did many things, then - all _ _   
_ _ Beautiful . . . _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

The night before they arrived on the shores of Egypt, Laila dreamed again.

_ Laila stood in the ocean. A storm was coming, and the waves dragged on her heavy fighting leathers. Her aunt had not permitted her to leave her weapons on shore. A particularly high wave crashed around her neck, briefly lifting her off her feet. She tasted salt like the tears she was sure she’d cry, later, in her bed. _

_ The wave passed and for a moment the water around her upper body was gone, washing her balance away, and it was in this moment that her aunt’s fist struck her chest plating. Laila went down, swallowing the sea. She struggled to her feet, and bent her knees to stand in a fighting stance, uncaring when the next wave drenched her. _

_ This time, she didn’t lose her footing, and this time, she dodged the first of her aunt’s attacks, blocked the second, and only stumbled when her aunt kicked the side of her thigh underwater. _

_ Laila got up, blinking salt water from her eyes, and the next time she expected the kick. The time after that she moved fast enough to dodge it, too. _

She woke covered in sweat, muscles aching, and as soon as they reached shore she lay down and relished the unmoving earth below. They’d crossed the Mediterranean in six days, despite the season, and had only had to fight monsters once. The sailors sang Jeremy’s praises, as they’d attributed their swift travel to the son of Hermes. They were probably right, too, but Laila felt a bit peeved about the wariness that had greeted her ever since the crew had found out about her grandmother Athena. Apparently the Athena-Poseidon feud was well known by  _ everyone. _

Just because of the name of  _ one city, _ too. Ugh.

“You okay there, Laila?” Jeremy asked cheerfully when he reached her.

“Peachy,” she replied.

“You haven’t complained about the sea until now.” Concern was obvious in Jeremy’s voice. “Have you felt like this the last few days?”

“Just had a bad dream,” Laila replied finally and sat up to meet his eyes.

Jeremy was about to reply but Sara let out a strangled cry.

Laila was beside her in seconds. Sara fell to her knees, breathing too quickly, twisting her fingers into the fabric of her himation above her heart. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her forehead seemed sweaty.

“Sara?” Jeremy sank to his knees beside her. “What are you feeling?”

A few breaths later where Laila could feel herself growing slightly more panicked with every heartbeat, Sara opened her eyes and attempted a weak smile. “A sudden pain in my chest, is all.”

“Oh, Sara,” Laila whispered. She and Jeremy pulled Sara up. “Maybe we have less time than we hoped.”

* * *

Alexandria was an impressive sight. Aesthetic architecture broadcasted the city’s wealth, and if Sara wasn’t shaky and sweating between Jeremy and Laila as they asked around for the library, Laila would have stared in awe at every brick and colour. As it was, she and Jeremy both had an arm around Sara’s waist and Jeremy was attempting to manipulate the mist.

The mist was what stopped mortals from noticing monsters and creatures from the underworld, though it was unreliable at best. Where people believed in and prayed to the twelve gods of Olympus, mist was rarely needed, because people didn’t bat an eye at a Satyr or a nymph and usually left them alone. Demigods, the children of the gods, could learn to manipulate the mist to their advantage, to hide from monsters and to draw curious eyes away.

Egypt was different, though. The old gods were not yet forgotten, and the sun burned unforgivingly. Life and death were seen differently in Egypt, and it wasn’t difficult to spot differences to Sparta and Athênai and every other place Laila had been to.

Point being: Laila was hoping very much that Jeremy’s mist manipulation worked, because she did not know how to kill an Egyptian monster. She couldn’t even read hieroglyphs.

“Finally,” Jeremy sighed when they reached the library.

Laila couldn’t help but feel excited. She was no scholar, obviously, but she respected books, and the library here - the library was grand.

Jeremy got them past security and staff like they were a breath of air instead of three people who’d just spent six days at sea, and soon they were surrounded by shelves upon shelves of papyrus rolls and books. On tables under windows letting in natural light were men surrounded by stacks of paper and ink, studying and taking notes and writing.

“Now we just need to find texts on curses,” Laila remarked.

“In a language that we know,” Jeremy replied, smiling, but Laila spotted the tension in his shoulders.

“Let’s find a place to sit first,” Laila said, and Sara smiled gratefully.

In a dark corner they found an empty desk where Sara immediately sank onto a stool and massaged her temples.

Laila locked eyes with Jeremy and he nodded. Wordlessly, they split up and methodically went through the shelves. Laila did her best to not get sidetracked, so when she returned to their table she was carrying some scrolls on the Furies and just five poetry collections.

She dropped the poetry in front of Sara and sat in front of her, trying not to breathe in the dust covering the first text:  _ Furious Furies’s Food.  _ Sara smiled when she noticed the poetry, and Laila spent a minute distracted by Sara’s small smile and careful hands.

Jeremy reappeared not much later, setting down new papyrus, ink and feathers for them to take notes. If they found anything, that was. He sat down beside Laila, taking one of the scrolls she found.

_ Furious Furies’s Food _ was endless metaphors about Furies eating souls, leaving people to die in pain.  _ Artful Arae _ was a short drama about an Arae who’d come from the underworld, went to look for the person who’d originally committed murder and gotten himself cursed by his victim, and it ended when the Arae sacrificed him to the gods. In a very bloody ceremony involving torture and… vore. Laila wrinkled her nose.

“What’s up?” There was a hint of hope in Jeremy’s voice. “Anything?”

“Just… a feeling,” Laila murmured. Because if Sara had somehow caught the Arae’s attention, and she was going to die, then maybe the solution was to find the Arae in the underworld… but Laila would not know how to begin. She’d kill for Sara - or Jeremy - no questions asked, but  _ how? _ So much could go wrong. And this was just speculation, anyway. Laila didn’t really want to meet Hades, especially not if she planned to kill one of his Furies. Even when the Fury in question was just one curse made with a dying breath.

The next scroll was an exact How-To to curse your murderer, in the event that you got murdered.

“I’ve got nothing,” she said.

Jeremy put his last scroll down, the expression on his face telling Laila everything there was to know. “There has to be  _ something,  _ somewhere.”

“Artemis told us to go here,” Laila reminded him. “We’ll just… find a secret library for demigod issues?”

“I’m sorry,” Sara said weakly. “This is all my fault.”

“No,” Jeremy said. “That Arae was irresponsible and if she was anything but a personified curse, she’d be fired because she was bad at her job.”

“Exactly,” Laila agreed. “And hey, we’re in Alexandria. If we die, we’ll have seen something  _ cool.” _

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah. And  _ when _ we  _ live, _ we’ll have the best stories. Except we’ll have to come here again and actually go sightseeing.”

“Thank you,” Sara whispered.

“I, for my part,” Jeremy said, “am glad to have met you two, even if I feel like I’m intruding on something romantic between you two every time you look at each other.”

Laila blushed and Sara giggled into her hand, and Jeremy’s soft laughter soon made Laila smile so wide her cheeks ached. Her stomach was turning into knots and nervous energy, and it was terrifying, but this. This was good.

Friends were wonderful.

“Am I interrupting?” A carefully polite voice interrupted their moment.

The newcomer was tall, had short, black hair, dark eyes and brown skin, and was dressed entirely in black. A dagger made of what looked like black glass hung at his belt. His hands were folded behind his back, but he didn’t come across as threatening, somehow.

“Uh,” Jeremy said eloquently.

The eyes of the stranger stuck on the scrolls about Furies and Arae and curses. He blinked.

Laila saw their chance. “Do you, perhaps, know where we can find more information on Arae and their curses, specifically?”

His dark eyes found her and he blinked again when he noticed the celestial gold of her own daggers and swords. “You’re demigods?”

“I am Laila, descendant of Athena,” Laila stood to properly introduce herself. She met the stranger’s eyes unflinchingly. “And these are my companions, Sara, daughter of Apollo, and Jeremy, son of Hermes.”

“I am Ichirou, son of Hades.” He smiled, then. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, although your chosen topic of research is slightly worrying.”

“That it is,” Laila agreed and sat back down, gesturing for Ichirou to join them. “We may have a… situation.”

“Oh gods,” Jeremy said, eyes widening. “You’re a son of Hades!”

“Yeah?”

“You can like, help us?”

“That would depend on the situation, but I hope so,” Ichirou smiled.

Laila turned to Sara, who blushed. She lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Okay,” Sara said. “So.”

Ichirou waited patiently.

“I was at this party. Of a sort. And I met an Arae. We bonded over disliking this guy, you see, and she was very attractive, and then we like…” Sara blushed and hid her face in her hands. “So we slept together, but then she disappeared. I didn’t think too much on it too, until Artemis showed up and said we didn’t have much time, and since this morning I’ve been feeling really ill.”

“You slept with her? How was it?” Ichirou sounded more curious than anything else, so Laila decided not to stab him to death.

“Um, good,” Sara spluttered. “It was pretty good. Great actually. She really - but that’s not the point!”

Ichirou chuckled. “Sorry. I’ve met a few Arae, you know, and I always wondered.”

“Arae?” A new, younger voice interrupted. “Ichirou, I know they’re attractive, but you have a boyfriend.”

Ichirou rolled his eyes. “Riko, hey. Cool for you to come see me and grace us with your presence.”

Riko looked like Ichirou, except a few years younger, and he smiled easier. They introduced themselves again, and found that Riko was Ichirou’s younger brother. Ichirou quickly summarised the conversation, and Sara smiled shakily at Riko’s disbelieving look.

“Well,” Riko began. “Arae have one job. Kill the person who killed the person who created the curse and therefore the Arae and all that. Obviously, as soon as the Arae does that, they stop existing, as they’re just the curse, so it happens that some Arae spend some time doing whatever before they kill, and it would only seem logical for them to be able to pass the curse on to someone else. You, Sara, as it seems. Since you’re touched by death-”

Laila sucked a sharp breath through her teeth.

Ichirou smiled sadly. “We are children of Hades. We can feel it. It’s why I came to you.”

Riko nodded and continued. “I assume the curse transferred to you, so you can do two things: you die, as the curse demands a death.  _ Your _ death, because the Arae chose you, slept with you, whatever. Or you can find the person the Arae was meant to kill and sacrifice them. If you’re lucky, that person dies on their own, but… don’t take that risk. So, who’s the lucky sacrifice?”

His cheerful tone met morose faces, and he grimaced.

“Sara,” Laila said, the world seemingly shifting and fitting into place with a satisfying click. “You said you bonded with her over your mutual disliking of someone. Why did she not like that person?”

“Kyle. He’s an asshole,” Sara said and wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t care for the lives of others, and he’s just so rude all the time. Ugh. Dunno what the Arae hated about him specifically, she never really… said…” Sara’s eyes widened.

“It seems,” Jeremy said, “we know who we’ll have to murder, and we know he should be in Cyprus right now.”

Laila didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or go leave for Cyprus right now.

“Awesome,” Riko agreed. “I love helping people if it means someone we don’t like will die.”

“Riko,” Ichirou said and rolled his eyes.

Riko shrugged.

“He’s normally more normal,” Ichirou said, but he smiled. “Do you want to stay the night? Riko and I live just around the corner, and you should get some rest.” He eyed Sara worriedly. “I can try to prolong your death a bit, give you some more time. Cyprus is big, and you’d need to get there first.”

“Yes,” Laila said. “Please help her.”

“And yes,” Jeremy added, “we’d love to stay the night, if it’s not too much trouble.”

* * *

_ But when you lie dead _ _   
_ _ No one will notice later or feel sad _ _   
_ _ Because you gathered no sprays from the roses _ _   
_ __ Of the Pierian Muses.

_ Once lost in Hades’ hall _ _   
_ _ You will be homeless and invisible - _ _   
_ _ Another shadow flittering back and forth _ _   
_ _ With shadows of no worth. _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

Ichirou and Riko lived in a spacious apartment two streets away from the library. It was mostly decorated in black and dark grey, with some reds here and there. What was most surprising, however, was the inhumanly beautiful young man who greeted them at the door, and who immediately stuck himself to Sara’s side, asking concerned questions.

“That’s Ichirou’s boyfriend,” Riko whispered with a smile that said he was well aware of the fact that they could all hear him.

They shuffled around in the small entrance to take off their boots, and as soon as they were done, Ichirou’s boyfriend commanded Ichirou to make some tea and prepare snacks. He made Sara lie down on a fluffy (black) carpet and put his hands on her head and face, closing his eyes.

Laila knew she was missing something. Ichirou’s boyfriend hadn’t introduced himself, and neither Ichirou nor Riko had made an honest attempt. But he radiated some kind of power, and Sara’s face somehow looked more alive. So she exchanged a suspicious look with Jeremy and sat down right next to Sara, taking her hand and watching the mysterious boyfriend.

Tea and food was delicious, and the way Ichirou smiled at his boyfriend - who still had his hands on Sara - helped Laila calm down a bit.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Um.”

“You have a question,” Ichirou’s boyfriend smiled.

“Of a sort,” Jeremy replied.

“Ask, then.”

“You - you’re Anubis, aren’t you?”

Laila’s heart stopped, but then her brain filled in the gaps and - yes, actually, that made sense.

Anubis smiled. “I am.”

“But like… no offense, but Ichirou is a son of Hades?”

“He is,” Anubis chuckled and looked at Ichirou with so much fondness Laila could only stare. “If gods fall in love with other gods and mortals, who says they can’t fall in love with demigods?”

Jeremy smiled at that. “That’s nice.”

Anubis looked at Laila, then. “It is. It’s nothing to hide.”

“Does anyone want more tea?” Riko said. “If we continue to talk about feelings, I’m gonna leave.”

Ichirou rolled his eyes, “Riko, just because you’re single, ugh.”

Laila had a feeling Ichirou rolled his eyes a lot. She couldn’t shake the feeling of Anubis’ eyes on her, but she elected to ignore it. This Egyptian god knew too much, but he also made Sara feel better, so that leveled him up in Laila’s eyes.

She went to sleep not much later, feeling like she hadn’t quite landed on both of her feet, and blamed it on six days at sea.

She’d be at sea for another three days or so to go to Cyprus, but this she also elected to ignore. Just for tonight.

* * *

_ In her dream-memory, Laila watched her aunt bind a long band of reinforced leather between two trees. The band itself was about as wide as her hand, the distance between the trees fifteen steps, and when her aunt stood on it, barefoot like the troupe of wandering athletes that had passed Sparta when Laila was a child, the leather held her weight. _

_ Laila watched with rapt fascination as her aunt walked a few lengths. She moved ever so slowly, arms in the air for balance and eyes on the tree in front of her, squinting in concentration. When she stepped to the ground and gave Laila a look, Laila took off her boots. _

_ Her aunt quietly, patiently instructed her on her posture and didn’t laugh when Laila took one step and lost her balance. _

_ Five hours later, Laila was drenched in sweat, but able to take seven steps. Five weeks later, and Laila walked the line with the same grace as her aunt. She didn’t lose any practice fights with her classmates anymore. _

Laila woke feeling restless, but seeing Sara smile and Jeremy in relaxed banter with the sons of Hades and Anubis calmed her somewhat.

The dream didn’t leave her until they said their goodbyes and the coast of Egypt slowly disappeared beyond the horizon.

“Laila?” Jeremy touched her elbow. “What’s up?”

“Just… nightmares.” Laila shrugged halfheartedly. “How’re you doing?”

“Honestly? I’m worried about how we’ll murder that Kyle person.” Jeremy mirrored her shrug. “Somehow, just walking up to him and attacking seems. Well.”

“Immoral?”

“Yeah. And I’ve - I’ve never killed anybody. I’m good at fighting because otherwise I’d have been eaten by some creatures who like demigod, but…” Jeremy winced.

He must have been thinking about it all night, Laila noticed. “I’ll do it.”

Jeremy met her eyes. “You will?”

“I’d do anything for Sara, I guess,” Laila took Jeremy’s hand. “And for you, though I wouldn’t kiss you.”

“Oh? You wanna kiss Sara?” Jeremy teased, smiling.

“Shut up,” Laila bumped his shoulder with hers. But he was smiling, so there was that.

* * *

_ Some call ships, infantry or horsemen _ _   
_ _ The greatest beauty earth can offer; _ _   
_ _ I say it is whatever a person _ _   
_ __ Most lusts after.

_ Showing you all will be no trouble: _ _   
_ _ Helen surpassed all humankind _ _   
_ _ In looks but left the world’s most noble _ _   
_ __ Husband behind,

_ Coasting off to Troy where she _ _   
_ _ Thought nothing of her loving parents _ _   
_ __ And only child but, lest astray . . .

_ . . . and I think of Anaktoria _ _   
_ _ Far away, . . . _

_ And I would rather watch her body _ _   
_ _ Sway, her glistening face flash dalliance _ _   
_ _ Than Lydian war cars at the ready _ _   
_ _ And armed battalions. _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

“Laila?”

She looked up to see Sara standing in her doorway. This ship was slightly bigger than the one they’d sailed from Athênai on, and they’d each gotten a separate room with an actual mattress. It was their second day at sea and Sara had been feeling worse, and in turn Jeremy was feeling helpless and Laila was restless.

“Can I come in?”

There was a small smile on Sara’s face, and Laila found herself staring, before she remembered herself. “Of course.”

Sara sat next to Laila, and Laila just remembered to put down the sword she’d been polishing. “You missed dinner.”

“I did?” Laila did, and it was on purpose. Sometime in the early morning, they’d reach their destination, and Laila was… well, maybe Jeremy’s guilt had reflected on her, or maybe her mind was caught up in a What-If situation where Ichirou, Riko and Anubis were with them, and they’d do what was necessary without blaming themselves.

“You did.”

Laila faced Sara and attempted to smile.

“What’s up?”

“Jeremy asked me the exact same thing yesterday.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Just answer me, Laila.”

Laila leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. It was best to talk about the thing, wasn’t it? She listened to Sara’s steady breaths before opening her mouth. “Tell me about Kyle, please.”

“Well…” Sara said. Her voice was different, without the warmth it had held for Laila. “You know I call him an asshole like every day, right?”

Laila hummed.

“When I first met him, he’d broken into the House of Words, drunk, and set fire to the paintings and drawings of the day. Said it was on a dare.” Sara leaned back next to Laila, their shoulders touching. “Don’t feel bad about feeling bad, Laila. Kyle drugged and raped one of my friends, and it’s not something we talk about a lot, but… I don’t know what else he’s done, and I would ask you to go home without me if I didn’t think he’s capable of the kind of murder it takes for an Arae to show up.”

“You said he propositioned you?”

Sara laughed out loud. “He knows my mother. I mean, like, my mortal, human mother. She lives in Cyprus, actually, so we’ll stay at her place until we find Kyle. But um, yeah. He asked me to marry him, and I said no, of course, and it’s… I refuse to be afraid, but he’s just a person. A person we’re going to murder. Shit.”

“Yeah.” Laila agreed. What a stupid quest.

“But we’re here now, aren’t we?” Sara smiled at Laila.

“And I’ll kill for you,” Laila said. “I’d die for you too, you know?”

Sara just stared.

Laila’s chest suddenly felt like it was going to explode. “I’d even live for you,” she said softly.

Sara just took her hand and squeezed.

They fell asleep next to each other, pressed close together on the small mattress, and it was enough, Laila told herself, even when she ached to have more.

Before she fell asleep, she already knew she’d dream.

_ Sparta was surrounded by mountains. Thus, they didn’t often see the ocean. Still, Laila’s aunt took her to a beach every year, insisting to do their training when standing in knee-deep water. At least she’d let Laila take off her boots. _

_ They sparred with knives and daggers and swords, and when their arms grew tired they fell back on fists and elbows and knees and kicks, daring each other to go into deeper water. They only left when they were both thoroughly drenched in sweat water and their clothes would need hours to dry. _

_ But they were daughters of Athena, and they would not fear the sea. _

* * *

Cyprus was beautiful in the morning. The harbour was busy, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon, and it would have been wonderful if Sara hadn’t relapsed.

She was breathing hard and her hands were cold, and she just managed to lead them into the village and point them to a small house on a hill.

But someone was already waiting for them.

“I bet you didn’t expect me here,” Kyle said dramatically.

Jeremy gripped Laila’s hand where she was holding Sara up, and Laila mouthed a thank you.

A woman who looked like an older version of Sara stepped out of the house and walked past Kyle as if he wasn’t there. “Sara! Honey, I thought you were staying at the House of Words? Is everything okay? I told Kyle to go away, I promise, but… honey?”

“Mom,” Sara said, her voice hoarse. “Something came up.”

Sara’s mom nodded, and turned to Laila and Jeremy. “And who are your friends? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before…”

“This is Jeremy of Troy, son of Hermes,” Sara gestured towards him, “and this is Laila of Sparta, granddaughter of Athena.”

Kyle scoffed, and Laila had an idea. She put on her best  _ I’m-nice-and-please-love-me _ smile that she made up on the spot, and took a step forward.

“Actually,” Laila said, tangling her fingers with Sara’s and hoping Jeremy would hold her up if she fainted, “I’m Sara’s betrothed. It’s why we came. You see, we met after one of her performances in the House of Words, and I just… fell in love? So I asked her out, and it happened so fast… I want to ask you for your blessing.”

Sara’s mom’s eyes were wide open and she gaped a little, so Laila did her best to hold her gaze and keep the smile on her face.

“This is an insult to me specifically,” Kyle announced, and Laila wished he was wrong, but… well.

“How so?” Laila raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re a daughter of Athena, and I’m the son of Poseidon, and this is an insult.”

Laila smirked. “What are you going to do about it, then?”

Kyle blinked, like he had expected her to back down. “I challenge you to a duel, and name you my enemy.”

Laila pretended to consider. She nodded. “To the death.”

That was when Sara lost consciousness and fell into Jeremy’s arms. Laila was by their side in no time. Sara’s forehead was cold and the dark rings under her eyes that had appeared in Alexandria seemed like bruises.

Jeremy was shaking, so Laila gripped his hand and nodded, doing her best to look like she knew what she was doing. She wasn’t, but, hey, the fake relationship had been the perfect excuse.

“Oh my,” Sara’s mom was saying, “come in, come in and lie down. The travel must have been exhausting, and now this…”

Kyle cleared his throat. “At midday, down by the sea, descendant of Athena.”

“I’ll be there,” Laila said and pushed him out of the way so Jeremy could carry Sara past him into the house.

Sara’s mom busied herself with breakfast, the atmosphere tense now that Sara was literally unconscious on a bed of cushions. Laila and Jeremy both didn’t feel like talking, because there was a finality in the air. Sara was going to die. She had hours left, and Laila would have to win against Kyle for Sara to have a chance of getting better.

Jeremy attempted to have a conversation with Sara’s mom over breakfast, but she seemed distracted, so all three of them ended up around Sara, not speaking, but holding clothes dipped in hot water to her hands and face, and burying her under blankets. It was almost a relief to watch the sun climb high into the sky until it was time for Laila to go.

Sara’s mom, who still hadn’t introduced herself, nodded at Laila when she stood up, and Laila was immensely grateful when Jeremy stood to follow her.

* * *

_ Since I have cast my lot, please, golden-crowned Aphrodite, let me win this round! _ _   
_ -Sappho

* * *

The light brown sand stretched on to the horizon, and the sea stretched on farther, meeting the horizon and becoming one with the sky.

But Laila only focused on the warrior in front of her. He’d drawn his sword and looked at her with fury in his eyes that Laila did not reciprocate. A bow and an arrow were on his back, a sword on his belt.

“I challenged you to a duel, descendant of Athena,” Kyle said. “I am Kyle, and my father is Poseidon.”

Laila knew there was no way around it. Her eyes not leaving him, she unlaced her boots. Barefoot, she went to greet him with steel of her own.

“I assume you accept?”

“The rivalry between Athena and Poseidon did not begin with us, nor will we end it,” Laila said. She wondered if her aunt had trained her for this very moment. If her aunt herself had trained for a similar moment. The sand underneath her feet was hot from the sun, but it had been that way during her training, too, so she did not mind. Laila’s eyes caught on the foam crowns in the waves. An image too peaceful and soft to be witness to a duel to the death.

“But your life will end,” he said.

“Yours will, yeah.”

When he charged, Laila outstepped him easily, kicking up sand to take his vision and his balance. He did not fall, and with a scream he threw himself at her. His sword thundered against hers, again, and again, and then she struck back, going into the offense and circling around, focusing on keeping her feet under her - and staying away from the water.

He was leading her to the water.

Her sword grazed his arm and blood splattered over the sand, then her sword found his shoulder.

The summer heat was filled with their heavy breathing.

She cursed viciously as pain shot through her thigh. She kicked at him and hobbled out of his reach before daring to inspect her thigh - where an arrow peeked from her flesh, and warm blood ran down her leg. That motherfucker.

When she looked at him he was smiling and raising his arms in a what-can-I-do gesture while walking backwards into the waves. Damn son of Poseidon. They all knew that the water was his, and that she was doomed. And yet…

And yet.

Laila grit her teeth against the pain and followed him into the waves.

For just a moment, his smile slipped into uncertainty, and he let her follow him until they were in knee-deep water before he came at her, moving fluently as if there was no water that dragged his feet. Laila was just happy she’d taken off her boots.

And she’d trained for this. All these hours with her aunt, jogging through sand, fighting in rivers and in the ocean - they’d paid off. Laila was slower than him, naturally, she wouldn’t dare hope to be better than a son of Poseidon, but only as long as her feet were underwater. But the arrow in her thigh stopped her from doing any kicks or spinning, and with the blood loss slowly spinning her mind it was all she could do to stay standing and not lose her balance.

“You’ll die here,” he hissed, “and then I’ll kill everyone you love.”

_ Sara, _ Laila thought desperately and hoped that she was still okay.

His power must have helped him, because the next wave dragged her with it and she fell backwards, splashing into the sea. The salt hitting her wounds directly made her open her mouth to scream, but there was only water to swallow.

_ “What do you fight for, my daughter?” Her mother’s voice rang through the bubbling waves, soothing her, taking pain with it. _

_ “Please,” Laila begged desperately, but she did not know what she was begging for. “For Sara.” _

_ “What do you fight for, my daughter?” Her mother asked once more, gentler this time. _

_ “Sara,” she replied. “Love.” _

And Laila rose to her feet between the waves. The tide didn’t drag her down anymore. It pushed her up, gave her more balance than she’d ever felt in water. He thigh was healed, all trace of the arrow gone.

“What… how…” the warrior stuttered.

“I am a daughter of Aphrodite, too,” Laila said. “And the tide remembers her.”

With that, she attacked. Their swords clashed viciously, and he fought with the fear of the dying, throwing everything he had towards her. Aphrodite’s blessing made his attempts to manipulate water ineffective, and Laila - well, Laila was Spartan.

She crowded him deeper into the sea and then up again on a sandbank, when the water rose only to her midshins. When she saw realisation in his eyes, Laila hit his wrist with the side of her blade and heard his sword splash into the sea.

“You cannot kill me here,” he said, frantic. “I am a son of Poseidon -”

“I can and I will. Your blood is a sacrifice to Aphrodite, your blood is a sacrifice to love. You die, and with you dies the curse on your blood.”

And Laila plunged her sword into his chest, and watched the light leave his eyes.

_ “Thanks, mom,” Laila said in her head to the presence of Aphrodite. “We gotta do this again sometime.” _

_ “My child, you are my blessing.” _

The waves swallowed him and Laila let him go. She turned to the beach and smiled through the exhaustion beginning to take over. The walk back seemed longer than it should be, like the waves weren’t in the mood to let her go, but like her mother a thousand years before her, Laila walked out of the sea.

“Is that… smart?” Jeremy asked, furrowing his brows. “I mean, he is a son of Poseidon, and you just dropped his body into the  _ sea…” _

Laila let out a shaking breath which turned into a laugh. “I offered him as a sacrifice to my mom.”

“Your mom? She’s dead, though? Or your grandmother Athena? Athena and Poseidon really don’t…” Jeremy stared at her. “Wait, this isn’t your way to say you wanna die by throwing Poseidon and Athena up against each other, please tell me you’re not suicidal.”

“No, Jer,” Laila smiled, thinking they were definitely at nickname level of friendship. “My other mom. Aphrodite.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said and continued to stare at her. “That would explain the fact that there’s butterflies on your head.”

“Oh,” Laila said and burst into giggles. “Well, the power of love, what can you say?”

“You’re impossible,” Jeremy said shaking his head, but he was smiling, too. He pulled her into a hug and squeezed. “I was really fucking scared when you went into the water, by the way, and I’m not forgiving you for that until you buy me food.”

“Let’s check on Sara first, though.”

* * *

_ Stand and face me, dear; release _ _   
_ _ That fineness in your irises. _

_ May you bed down, _ _   
_ _ Head to breast, upon _ _   
_ _ The flesh _ _   
_ _ Of a plush _ _   
_ _ Companion _ __   
\- Sappho

* * *

Sara had opened her eyes slowly about an hour after Laila returned to her side. Jeremy had rolled his eyes, a habit he’d definitely gotten from Ichirou, and left them alone to distract Sara’s mom.

“Hey,” Laila said. Warmth had returned to Sara in the last hour, and Sara - Sara was going to be okay.

“Hey yourself,” Sara whispered.

Laila helped her sit up and brought a jar of water to her lips, helping her drink. “You’re not cursed anymore, by the way. Kyle is dead.”

Immediately, Sara’s eyes flew over Laila, and, finding no injury, she relaxed slightly. “Yeah?”

“There’s something you need to know about me, I suppose. Or two things, actually.”

Sara took Laila’s hands in hers. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve always kept it secret, because Sparta is… Sparta, so this is harder than I thought. So, Athena had twin daughters once, my aunt, who’s currently in Athênai, and my mom, who died when I was young. But my other mom is Aphrodite. Like.” Laila looked up at Sara, hoping that Sara understood. Parents could be, like, embarrassing.

“That explains a lot, actually,” Sara smiled.

“What?”

“Nothing, go ahead. Two things?”

Laila took a deep breath. “What I told your mother earlier… that was true. That I fell in love with you when I heard you recite that piece about being a stone. Not that we’re betrothed. And I want to apologize for making my feelings known like that, and for lying to your mother. It seemed like the easiest way to get to Kyle, and you were…”

“Oh, Laila,” Sara said and threw her arms around Laila’s shoulders, dragging her close to herself. “It’s okay. And thank you, for saving me and all that. And, dearest, I love you too.”

Laila shut her eyes tightly and breathed the scent of Sara’s hair in. “You… you do?”

Sara chuckled and Laila felt the vibrations of it. “Of course I do. And hey, my mom already thinks we’re engaged, why not make it real?”

“Wait, what?” Laila pulled back to look into Sara’s face. “Really?”

Sara smiled like she was the sun, and knowing her father was Apollo only confirmed it. “Marry me?”

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” Laila protested, but her blood was on fire and she could feel Aphrodite somewhere, watching her.

Warm lips met hers, slowly, tentatively. Laila’s eyes fell shut. She moved her lips against Sara’s and slowly licked into her mouth. Her tongue met hers in the middle, and Laila buried her hands in Sara’s hair, barely feeling nails digging into her where Sara gripped her clothes.

After a lifetime, they parted for breath. The first thing Laila saw when she opened her eyes was Sara’s face, and she decided that she wanted to see it for the rest of her life.

“Maybe we should buy Jeremy food so he doesn’t feel alone,” Sara mumbled.

“I owe him food anyway,” Laila remembered. “We’ll be okay.”

“Come,” Sara wound her arms around Laila and fell back onto the bed, dragging her with her. “Come close.”

_ I declare _ _   
_ _ That later on, _ _   
_ _ Even in an ange unlike our own, _ _   
_ _ Someone will remember who we are. _ __   
\- Sappho

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you liked it, consider leaving a comment? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Find the artist at tempastry.tumblr.com  
Find me at thespacebetweenworlds.tumblr.com


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